Comfortable Hell
I was talking to LCF on the phone today, and he used the term “comfortable hell” to describe my current situation. Springtime isn’t always a big glorious breath of fresh air. There is a kind of subtle torture that occurs when feelings, curiosities, and desires are forcibly kept dormant, while all around me everything in nature is kicking out the jams. I know I’m being intentionally vague. I don’t totally have a handle on this whole blogging thing and the urge to censor and couch my language needles me whenever I try to write. I guess what I’m trying to say is that staying intentionally still, and isolating myself from new experiences because I’m already overwhelmed with what I have chosen to do, is poisoning the well. I’m so stagnant I can feel the algae growing between my toes as I type. Flies are swarming overhead. All my best ideas are half buried in unmarked graves. If I try to resurrect them now, will they be too rotten to live again?